


Love Actually Is All Around Us

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: 25 Days of Star Wars [5]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Everyone's British in this, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Love Actually AU, Prime Minister Poe, Speechwriter Rey, Workplace Romance, t for cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21706135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: Poe Dameron has just been elected Prime Minister, and he has a thousand and one plans to improve his country and prove all his critics wrong. His team is unstoppable, made up of his friends and terrifically dedicated people who will work endlessly to help others in need.But, there is one thing he never could have expected when he took office: that he might be falling in love with his new speechwriter, Rey Kenobi, a woman who is very much younger than he is, and very much a subordinate. Poe can only hope this will all work out, somehow.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Series: 25 Days of Star Wars [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560265
Comments: 70
Kudos: 156





	1. (8 weeks 'til Christmas)

**Author's Note:**

> WeLCOME to the Star Wars Love Actually AU!
> 
> There will be another entry in this mini 'verse, with RebelCaptain (and yes they're all the same age, and no I don't care)
> 
> Some plotlines will be ironed out from the movie, aka the ones I don't like: no one's going to call Rey fat over and over again ( I mean, c'mon), Rey will be given slightly more power, as she'll be a speechwriter and not an assistant, and we also get the benefit of seeing Poe struggle more with the fact that he's falling in love with someone who does not have as much power as he does in their workplace (something that kinda got glossed over in the movie).

“Hey Dad.” Poe grinned into the phone, tracing a random pattern on the inside of the car door. “You’ll never guess where I am.”

“I think I can guess, mijo.” Kes sounded dryly amused. “I might be able to see you right now.”

“Really?” Poe tilted his head and pretended to look around the cab of his car, even though the only person who could see him was Snap, the head of his security detail and his longtime friend. They exchanged conspiratorial grins. “Funny, I can’t see you.”

“Ha, ha.”

The car came to a stop, and Poe ducked his head, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling. “Hey, dad?”

“Yeah, Poe?”

“Thanks for everything.” Poe stroked his thumb against the shell of his phone case, wishing his father was here, and not thousands of miles away, visiting his abuelo who was sick. Family came first though, Poe knew that. Even if today  _ was  _ kind of important. “I miss you.”

“I’m so proud of you, darling boy.”

Poe eyed the door, where he could see a bodyguard approaching. “That’s all that matters, papá.”

“I can think of twenty-one million voters who wouldn’t want to hear that.”

“Mhm.” Poe snorted. “Gotta go.” He hung up in time for the door to swing open, and Poe emerged in front of Number 10, crowds of photographers and screaming well-wishers waiting for him. He grinned and waved, hoping that if he got enough of the journalists to like him, they might stop calling him the ambitious, young son of an immigrant, an  _ upstart,  _ and start calling him by his title.

“Prime Minister!”

There it was. Poe pointed in the direction of whoever had called his name and waved some more. Snap was behind him, a hand on his back, and guided him up to the front door.

“A few more waves.” Connix eyed the crowd dubiously, having exited the car behind Poe. He knew she had the timing of this down to a science, so he kept waving.

Sometimes he wondered if they were all dreaming, he, Connix, Snap, Jess, Karé, and Iolo. Had they really made it this far? A ragtag team of relatively young people who’d put aside actual careers to try and make a shot of things in politics, who wanted to make this country actually better, better for everyone - the poor, the disenfranchised, the immigrants, the minorities, and not just the rich and powerful.

“And inside.” Connix opened the door and pulled on Poe’s elbow; he pretended to pout and then grinned and waved one last time before turning around. 

“Oh lord, my fucking face is about to fall off,” Poe moaned when the door was shut behind him. He rubbed his face and heard a few giggles.

“Mr. Dameron, here are some of your new staff,” Connix said, lips twitching. “Finn, who’s going to be running logistics with me-”

Poe shook Finn’s hand, genuinely smiling now in recognition. Finn had worked on the campaign; smart, dedicated, and fierce. “Glad to have you on board, Finn.”

“Thanks, Prime Minister.” Finn was good people, Poe decided immediately. Great people.

“Here’s Rose Tico, who will be running social media.”

Rose was tiny, with a pretty face and a great smile. Poe decided he also liked her. “Great to meet you Rose.” He frowned. “Tico...were you - I mean, any relation to Paige?”

“Yes, sir.” Rose looked sad, and Poe was sure he did too. “I’m sure my sister would have loved to see you win this.”

“Yeah.” Poe nodded, remembering well the girl from his university years, who was always the first to protest unjust laws, who had been unafraid of anything. He didn’t know how her murder had gone unsolved, but distantly a part of his brain started to whir, thinking about ways he could maybe re-open the case now, use his powers to put Paige Tico to rest fully.

He smiled one last time at Rose before turning to the last of the three people near the door; behind them were the household staff - he recognized the lanky frame of Cecil Threepio immediately and had to bite back a sardonic grin - and he was so distracted by them that he almost missed Connix’s introduction. But, when he did look over fully, he felt a little winded.

“This is Rey Kenobi, a writer who will be working more closely with you now. She worked on your ‘national crisis of conscience’ speech, fixed it up pretty well if I do say so myself.”

“I’d say so as well,” Poe managed to eke out some semblance of a response, and held his hand out, trying not to stare too much at the very, very, very pretty writer in front of him. “Hope I did it justice.”

“You did it alright, sir,” Rey said. 

Her nose scrunched up when she smiled. Her hair was braided back from her face. She had freckles dusting her skin like stars. Oh lord, Poe had to stop staring or he’d be removed on his first day for harassment - something he actively campaigned against, and something he actively wanted to avoid not because he wanted to avoid scandal but because it was a horrid thing to do.

“Well, as long as it was alright,” Poe teased gently.

Rey grinned. “Didn’t cock it up too bad, sir.” Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh shit, I just said cock to the prime minister. And now - now I said  _ shit.  _ Shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Poe shrugged. “I fuck that up all the time.” He grinned, remember his hot mic fiasco from February, and Rey laughed as well, her hand still in front of her mouth, face beet red.

Poe lingered in front of her, wanting to hear the laugh again, but then Connix cleared her throat.

“Sir? The rest of the staff is waiting.”

“Right. Right! Yes, of course! Lead the way, Ms. Connix.” Poe bowed slightly to Rey - and who the hell did that? Who bowed to people in 2019? - and walked away, wincing at how awkward he was.

He looked over his shoulder before he reached the rest of the household staff, and not even Threepio’s disdainful sniff could distract him from how Rey was biting her lip, smiling down at her shoes while Rose and Finn elbowed her, clearly giggling and teasing her.

_ Too young,  _ Poe told himself,  _ too young and works for you. Eyes up, eyes front, and leave it be.  _

He had a country to run, anyway. It wouldn’t do if he were mooning around over one of his speechwriters all the time.

* * *

A month into Poe’s tenure as Prime Minister, and he was mooning over one of his speechwriters all the time. 

Not only was so gorgeous, she also had an air about her that she could and  _ would  _ kick anyone’s arse if she had to. Rey Kenobi was almost as tall as Poe, and while she was willowy, a bit like a model or an actress, she was also impossibly strong. Once, he caught her picking up Finn and rocking him back and forth when she thought no one was looking. Another time, he turned a corner and saw her lifting a sofa so Arthur Detoo could vacuum under it. He was half-convinced she was one of those Avengers everyone was so obsessed with.

Rey was also  _ brilliant,  _ something she proved effortlessly in every meeting they sat in together; he watched as she ironed out any possible bump in his speeches, and he tried to hide his smile when she told him his ideas were absolutely idiotic. 

“You can’t go about denouncing the upper class as leeches,” she said one meeting, barely hiding a smile of her own. 

They were alone that day, his senior speechwriter, Skywalker, out for the day with a sore throat. Poe could hear his security and some of his staff beyond the half-closed door, but it was only them in the drawing room, Rey leaning over to examine his notes with a frown; their knees brushed together once, and Poe tried not to lean into it in the hope of replicating it. 

“And why not?” He asked, already planning on changing it. Rey had good instincts, after all.

“Because, those leeches might not like being called leeches, and they can smack it back at you that you’re only talking from a place of having grown up with no money.” Rey shrugged, her bright blue pen hovering over the page. “People with everything like to pretend that people who had almost nothing are waiting to take it from them; if you flip the script on them that fast, they’ll dismiss you as reactionary, hyper-emotional, with a personal vendetta.”

“So, what do you suggest then?” Poe watched as Rey’s brow furrowed, admiring how her slender fingers gripped her pen and tapped it against the draft like she was wielding some kind of sword.

“You could address those who have less, instead.” Rey began to write something quickly. “Everyone’s always appealing to the rich - even when they talk ‘about’ the poor, they’re only doing it in ways that falsely promise something to them, and show no sign of actual empathy, ways that signal to the rich that they’re still on  _ their  _ side. The people who have-not were the ones who elected you, Mr. Dameron. They should be who you talk to.”

She pushed the edited note towards him, and Poe reviewed it for a moment before nodding. “That’s a lot better.”

“I know.” Rey didn’t smile cockily, but it was still teasing, and Poe felt himself warm under the collar of his button-down. He’d removed the suit jacket when they started working, and even if he was overheating in Rey Kenobi’s gaze, he found himself wishing for that extra layer of protecting, to shield him from her knowing looks.

“You have a good heart, Prime Minister.” Rey sat back against the sofa and examined him so thoroughly it felt like he was at the doctor’s office. “It was why I voted for you.”

“You did?” Poe found himself unreasonably chuffed by that idea. She worked for his campaign, after all, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. But Rey Kenobi was brilliant, and clever, and instinctive, and if she thought he was worth a vote, well, maybe he wasn’t cocking it up too badly.

Rey nodded. “I … I was one of those people who didn’t grow up with … a lot.” She cleared her throat and examined her hands. “Things were … tough, and I got used to being treated like I was part of the trash.”

“I didn’t know that.” Poe found himself leaning in now; he was naturally a tactile person, who had to unlearn his instinct to hug people when they shared something with him, given his position of power, but he found that he very much wanted to embrace Rey in that moment, if only to try and alleviate the hidden grief in her face. “Did your parents-”

She snorted, and he stopped.

“My parents were … let’s say, not around. I grew up in long-term foster care. It was …. We could have used a leader like you while I was there.” Rey was bright pink now. “Sorry to unload, sir. We should get back to-” she pointed to the draft, but Poe shook his head.

“Don’t apologize. We’ll be working a lot together, and I certainly don’t mind knowing more about you.” They exchanged shy smiles. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Rey.”

“Of course, Prime Minister.”

“Poe,” he corrected gently. “You can call me Poe.”

“I really shouldn’t.” Rey eyed the doorway, tensing, and Poe turned to see that Karé and Jess were there, no doubt for the two o’clock briefing. “Excuse me, I’ll just-” she stood, and he did too, wiping his hands awkwardly on his pants so he didn’t do something stupid like reach out for her.

Rey grabbed the draft off the table and held it to her tightly, offering him a tense smile. “I’ll look over your notes and make suggested changes, sir.” She nodded her head, and they did an awkward shuffle where they tried to go around each other; eventually, Rey pivoted and nearly fled from the room, past Karé and Jess, who watched her go with bemused expressions.

“Dameron, I swear, I’ve known you for fifteen years, but if you’d been hiding a propensity to harass pretty staffers this whole time-” Jess began warningly.

“It’s not like that.” Poe wiped a hand over his face and collapsed on the sofa that had held Rey a few seconds ago. “At least, I hope it’s not like that. Rey is - she’s just -”

“Very, very pretty,” Karé added helpfully. Poe nodded with a groan. “And very, very young, and very, very much in a position of less power than you,” she added, unhelpfully as she sat down next to him.

“Yeah.” Poe waved a hand, exhausted suddenly. “All of that.”

“Get it together, Prime Minister, we have a dozen things to review before the president gets here in two weeks, and we all know how much fun the Supreme Leader is going to be.” Jess whapped him on the head with a stack of papers, and Poe nodded, sitting up and wiping his eyes. Neither of his friends commented on it, and they went right back to work as if the Prime Minister wasn’t in danger of falling in love with a subordinate; as if he  _ didn’t  _ care that he might have to step down if he wanted more with Rey.

Because as much as he did have plans for the country, Poe couldn’t deny the growing feeling of rightness in his chest, the idea that maybe, if she wanted something more, too, Rey Kenobi might be worth far more than all the power the UK had to offer him.


	2. 4 Weeks 'til Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The American President visits the Prime Minister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings**  
>  Sexual harassment  
> "You know I can take whatever I want" said by a very powerful man to a woman who appears defenseless
> 
> (If you haven't seen Love Actually, this storyline involves the PM witnessing the president harass his employee, and it causes some somewhat icky conversations/demonstrations of power as a result)

In the weeks leading up to the American president’s visit, Poe tried to be on his very best behavior with all his staffers.

They were working overtime, after all, on a number of items. The American president, while an important visitor, was still more or less secondary to the _actual_ problems the UK faced every day. Poe visited all corners of the sovereign state, paying close attention to those who did not have much, just as a certain writer told him he should. He visited hospitals, charity centers, shelters; he visited long-term group homes, and veterans’ meetings; he listened to the elderly and the young, and went to a few schools along the way.

Poe was exhausted, and he hadn’t even completed two full months in office. But, exhaustion was no reason to be an arse to those working for him - and exhaustion was no excuse for staring at Rey Kenobi as she reviewed another one of his speeches that were meant to seem impromptu. No excuse for staring at how her lovely face looked, studying his scribbled notes and questions. No excuse for leaning a little closer than necessary when she leaned over the table, eyes still on the paper, to point out a dangling modifier. No excuse for asking her opinion to extend their time together. No excuse for staring at how she placed her red pen between her full lips.

Definitely no excuse for that last one.

He shook himself out of his drowsy, enthralled state at that last, inexcusable mental digression, and glanced at the time.

“It’s a quarter after ten, Ms. Kenobi.” 

_Ms. Kenobi_ because she’d seemed uncomfortable when he asked her to call him by his first name. Poe had since made an active attempt to use formal address with her, even when he was giving others nicknames, like Temmin, aka “Snap,” and Finn, aka “buddy,” or “mate,” names the two liked (and Finn reciprocated, something that delighted Poe to no end).

“So it is.” Rey glanced at the clock and then made a comment in her small, compact handwriting. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting home?” Poe cracked his neck and scrolled through his email on his laptop, wincing at the fresh batch of messages. Fifty-five in the last ten minutes. So, it was probably a two-hours-of-sleep kind of night. 

“I think my cat can manage,” Rey snorted, and Poe smiled at her. “The only person who’d be waiting up for me is my flatmate, and, well-” she jerked her chin to the door, and Poe turned around to see Finn standing in the hallway, deep in conversation with Connix.

“Ah.” Poe nodded, trying not to think about how Rey described Finn as a _flatmate_ and not a boyfriend or partner, and how she didn’t _have_ _someone waiting for her at home_ \- which -

No. No, she was making polite conversation. He was not to turn this into something lecherous, even if he _had_ just discovered her hazel eyes had little flecks of gold in them.

“Well, if we’re going to be here all night, I’ll order some food?” Poe clicked his pen and grabbed a notepad. “What do you like to eat, Ms. Kenobi?”

“Literally everything. Anything. I could eat a fucking horse, I’m so famished.” Rey coughed and put a hand in front of her face. “I mean. Whatever you’re ordering, I’ll be fine with. Sir.”

“I don’t think they sell fucking horses this close to Downing Street,” Poe teased gently, and Rey stuck her tongue out at him. He pretended to squawk in indignation and clutch at his heart, but he smiled after a second. “Chips?”

“Chips.” Rey closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes. Chips. Anything and chips. Yes.”

“Chips it is.” Poe stood and brushed non existent dust off his pants. “I’ll go see if Finn and Connix want anything, and I’ll send someone right away. Can’t have you getting too hungry, Ms. Kenobi.”

“I’m sure it can’t be a total priority of the Prime Minister,” Rey began, but Poe wasn’t quite done.

“I’d hate to awake tomorrow morning and discover all of our horses were, in fact, eaten in the middle of the night.”

Rey scrunched her nose up like she did when she was thinking hard, and tapped her pen against her chin.

“Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Kenobi?” Poe teased.

“I was thinking, Prime Minister, if it would be an act of treason to throw something in violence at the Prime Minister.”

Poe pretended to consider this, and tilted his chin back to examine the ceiling of the study. “Hm. Well, I can’t say it would be punishable by death, exactly, but at the very least, a trip to the dungeon - _aaah!_ ” He shouted in alarm when Rey chucked her pen at him, striking him perfectly in the face.

“The dungeon for you, Ms. Kenobi!”

“Worth it.” Rey scooped up the script and curled up on her chair, pulling another pen out of one of her buns. She resumed chewing on the end of it, entirely unbothered by her attack only moments ago, entirely unbothered by how Poe was now staring at her again, smiling fondly, like an idiot. Staring like a Prime Minister shouldn’t stare at his speechwriter. 

Staring like he was falling in love with her.

He cleared his throat after a long moment and half-bowed to Rey -- again with the half-bowing -- who still wasn’t looking at him, and then managed to stumble out into the hallway, his entire head feeling like it was engulfed in flames of agonizing embarrassment.

* * *

The Prime Minister smoothed out the lines of his suit one last time, even though Kaydel Connix had spent two full minutes fussing over his appearance before they walked outside to greet their guests.

Poe’s staff were waiting indoors, and only his security were waiting outside 10 Downing Street with him as the black limousines pulled up out front. Poe tried to keep his face neutrally proud and held himself as tall as he could; the flashbulbs going wild were currently pointed at the massive man straightening as he got out of the car in the middle. 

Kylo Ren, the President of the United States, was everything Poe Dameron was not. Conservative, reticent, and massive; pale and freckled, Kylo Ren had an aura of raw, unstable power about him, and Poe had never felt quite at ease in his presence, the very few times they’d had to speak in the past.

It was like whoever decided global political patterns thought it would be a lark to throw Ren (or, as Poe’s staff called him, The Supreme Leader) and Poe into the same round of elections, with their polarized viewpoints, vastly different personalities, and mismatched appearances. 

Still though, America was an important ally to the United Kingdom, even if Poe thought its ruler was a massive git, and however this visit went would probably help to define their relations well into the new year. After Poe’s predecessor had been caught on tape openly mocking Ren - alongside the French, Dutch, and Canadian leaders - it was up to him to try and smooth things out, so as not to antagonize a global powerhouse even more.

“Mr. Ren,” Poe greeted him jovially enough, tapping into the reserve of cheer he had from sharing a cup of hot cocoa with most of his staff before this whole show had to start. “It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“Mr. Dameron.” Ren’s lips twitched, but it might have been a grimace. Poe hoped the way his hand bones cracked in Ren’s grip had more to do with their very obvious size difference, and much less to do with Ren’s private desire to rip him in half. Surely, Ren didn’t want to rip Poe in half. Poe was only imagining the hatred in Ren’s eyes. They surely weren’t red. Not actually.

“Come inside,” Poe said with as much charm as possible, after they’d posed for a few photos. He was able to take a few without Ren right next to him, as Ren turned his back after the first minute or so and stared up at the front door dolefully. “Meet my staff.”

“Wonderful.” Ren sounded bored, but not pissed, so Poe hoped it wouldn’t come down to the American president trying to murder him.

They walked down the line, Ren mostly nodding at the staff, shaking hands only with Snap and Connix, but then his face shifted imperceptibly.

“...and this is Rey Kenobi,” Poe said reluctantly, not liking how much more interested Ren looked suddenly. “She’s one of my head speechwriters.”

“A new recruit?” Ren asked in a voice that was both way too detached and way too interested. Poe cleared his throat and nodded, waiting for Rey to answer for herself.

“Yes...sir.” Rey added the last word as a clear afterthought; Ren didn’t even seem to have noticed. “I became full-time staff after Prime Minister Dameron took office.”

“Ah, I see.” Ren smiled. A real, actual smile. 

Poe shuddered; he was sure he wasn’t alone in that. _How the hell had this guy gotten elected, when he was as charismatic as a wet paper bag? Oh. Right. He appealed to an over-zealous fanbase. Also, the Electoral college._

“Is that why Dameron’s speeches are so much better now?” Ren smirked down at Rey, who cleared her throat and held her ever-present folder of notes closer to her chest. She squared her jaw and glared up at him; Poe wanted to tell her, oddly, to appear uninterested in Ren. That a lack of interest would make him go away; that men like that would only view a challenge by a smaller, younger, pretty woman as an indication of _romantic_ interest, and not a desire to knock him on his arse.

“The Prime Minster’s speeches were always good,” Rey said firmly. “Perhaps I could speak to your writer if you’re worried about quality of speeches?”

Poe stared at her in shock, but Ren only tilted his head and examined her the way a patron might study a cut of meat in the butcher shop.

“Right. Well, Mr. President, we do have a lunch to get to.” Poe reached out without touching Ren’s elbow, and got his attention with some mild success.

“Goodbye, Rey Kenobi,” Ren said, and Poe tried not to hear anything too threatening in it.

But, then they were walking to the main dining room, when Ren looked over at him, smirking again, to ask, “Where’s your country been hiding its best assets, Prime Minister?”

And Poe clenched his jaw so hard, he figured a visit to the dentist might be in order for all his assuredly cracked molars.

* * *

Three days into Ren’s visit, Poe was suffering through a review of some documents with the giant moron. They were trying not to be at each other’s throats, but their views on life, liberty, and pretty much everything made sure that Poe was, at the very least, inches away from a permanent migraine the entire afternoon.

There was a knock at the door, two hours into their conversation.

“Come in,” Poe said, distractedly, glaring down at the piles of paper. He wiped his eyes tiredly with the heel of his hand, and next to him, Ren sat up straighter.

“Ms. Kenobi,” he greeted, his voice still eerily cold but commanding. 

“You asked to see my notes on the NATO address, sir?” Rey spoke directly to Poe, but Ren didn’t look bothered. She at least offered Ren a polite smile as she walked into the room, the speech in her hand, already extended.

“I did. Christ. Thank you, Ms. Kenobi. I really appreciate it.” Their hands brushed against each other when she handed him the speech, and Poe had to pretend it didn’t race like lightning into his gut because the way he felt about Rey Kenobi was private: not for the sleazy president to know, because he’d definitely use it to fuck with Poe, and not for Rey to know, because that would definitely end in disaster and threaten her hard-earned career.

“It’s no problem, Prime Minister.” Rey gave him a particularly sunny smile - wonderful, considering Poe hadn’t seen the bloody sun yet that day - and Poe was struck, not for the first time, by how beautiful she was. 

“Join us, Ms. Kenobi.” Ren stood and walked to a table, cluttered with papers. “I’m sure with your keen eyes, we’ll figure out some of the issues in these proposals.”

“I don’t know …. Mr. President.” She seemed to be biting out his title; he had his back to him, so he didn’t see the cheeky grin Poe shot Rey. She waved a hand at him, half-smiling herself. “That’s not really my background. Sir.”

“Nonsense.” Ren gestured for her to come over to the table, and Rey’s eyes went skyward for a second, as though she were entreating some silent deity to get her out of this. 

While she was walking over, Ren cleared his throat. “Excuse me, Dameron. Would it be possible to get some tea?”

“Tea?” Poe blinked and stood as well, examining the speech Rey had just handed him. The second paragraph was much clearer with her suggested edits, and he quietly chuckled at her decisive writing style, so much more efficient than his effusiveness. “Oh. Right. Yes. Tea. Would you - tea, Ms. Kenobi?”

_That wasn’t a full sentence._

“Yes, thank you.” Rey’s cheeks were pink, and she was standing at the edge of the table, looking desperately unsure of herself. “But sir, I can go get it.’

“Nonsense.” That wasn’t her job, after all. “I’ll just stop whoever I see and ask they pass the message along. And then you can have all the sandwiches in the world.”

“Very good, sir,” Rey laughed behind her hand, and Poe walked backwards out of the room, half-bowing again.

“Why do I always do that?” Poe hissed to himself, flailing his arms around and then dragging his hands through his hair. “Just be normal, Dameron!”

He spotted Threepio at the end of the hall and jogged to catch his elbow; Threepio was amused at Poe’s floundering attempt to order tea - with extra scones for Rey, who liked them the best - and a minute or so after he left, Poe stumbled back into the study, whacking himself in the head with his speech, wondering where his life had gone so wrong.

“...I can take whatever I want,” he heard Ren say softly, and Poe stiffened, looking up from the carpet.

Rey was backed into a corner, Ren looming over her. Poe had noticed for months now that Rey was strong, and capable, and confident, but she looked small now. Ren had almost a foot of height on her, and easily a hundred pounds, and with his all-black suit, it looked like the devil had pinned Rey against the wall. 

And she was terrified.

“Pardon me, but what the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Poe demanded, storming into the room fully and heading over to where Ren was half-turning from Rey, already sneering. 

“Excuse me, Prime Minister, but Rey and I were just talking. Weren’t we, sweetheart?” Ren turned back around and stroked the back of his fingers against her freckled cheek.

Poe was already half-shouting in protest and anger - “Don’t _touch_ her!-” when Rey Kenobi grabbed the President by the hand, gripped his wrist, and twisted viciously, with a pop loud enough that it almost covered up Ren’s screech of pain. Then, her small foot found its way to Ren’s leg, and she kicked him mercilessly, forcing him down to his knees, his twisted, potentially broken wrist still gripped in her hands.

Half of Poe was terribly impressed at how easily Rey had taken down a very large man.

The other half of Poe was terribly concerned that Rey had easily taken down a very large man who happened to be the American president.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!


	3. The Next Day (Still 4 Weeks Before Christmas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Rey's confrontation with the president.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!
> 
> A short chapter, but I wanted to let you know what had happened :)

_ “She should be sent to the United States to be charged!” Kylo Ren demanded, jabbing a finger from his uninjured hand in Poe’s face, a few seconds after the office door closed behind the doctor. The Secret Service were now lurking right outside the door, which was the only reason why Poe didn’t pick up his laptop and crack Ren in the face with it.  _

_ “No such thing will happen.” Poe spoke as firmly as he could without shouting. _

_ “Well then, I want her fired! Immediately!”  _

_ Rey had disappeared moments after she sprained Ren’s wrist, walking away tucked under Connix’s arm, and Poe couldn’t help but wish he was hiding out with them, wherever they had ended up. _

_ “Why would I fire her?” Poe pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, gripping the back of a chair. “You harassed her. Cornered her-” _

_ “I did not!” Ren roared. “She came onto me!” _

_ “Don’t fucking lie to me in my own office,” Poe snapped. _

_ They glared at each other for a long moment, and then Poe took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out in a tense huff. _

_ “It’s fine, of course, if you want her fired. I’ll put in the official press release that a speechwriter was let go because she defended herself against the American president-” _

_ “There’s no need for that,” Ren snapped, adjusting the lapels of his suit awkwardly with his hands, one wrapped as it was to help the sprain. Poe was secretly, deeply chuffed that Rey had done so much damage so quickly. “I don’t want to see that little nobody for the rest of my trip, though.” _

_ “Fine,” Poe got out through his gritted teeth. “More than fine.” _

_ If he had it his way, Ren would never occupy the same continent as Rey ever again. _

* * *

“Mr. President! How has your visit to England been?”

“Uneventful.” Ren lifted his injured hand with a rueful smile. “My clumsiness apparently is international, though.” There were some titters throughout the crowd, and Ren smirked as he stood and nodded at the round of shutters going off, the cameras pointed on him and Poe.

Poe steamed.

How  _ dare  _ he stand here and make jokes about his injury when they both knew damn well where he got it, how he got it? Poe had half a mind to let everyone know the president got his ass kicked while he was trying to assault a woman half his size, but he managed to bite his tongue. There was no way Rey would want him to divulge that information to the press.

If only he’d  _ seen  _ Rey today. She’d disappeared with Connix the day before, and Poe hadn’t had a chance to ask how she was doing - he’d asked Connix to check in with her, and he’d asked Connix to make sure Rey stayed far away from Ren and the offices until the president was gone, but that meant  _ he  _ didn’t get to see Rey until the president was gone.

_ God, when would the president leave?  _

This afternoon, Poe reminded himself. He’d be on a jet, flying far, far away from Poe and England and Rey this afternoon. Thank the lord.

“And do you believe you’re leaving here on the same page as the Prime Minister in regards to the upcoming global justice summit?”

“The Prime Minister and I, while sometimes diverging in our talking points, are always on the path to making things better for Americans and the British.” Ren smiled, an oily, uncomfortable smile, but people seemed to nod in the audience. Poe felt his teeth grinding together. “We’ll make sure England and America remain the powerhouses they’ve always been throughout history.”

Ren stood slightly out of the way so that Poe could step forward and give his talking points.

That Rey had helped write.

That Poe no longer wanted to say, given the circumstances.

“Do you agree, Mr. Prime Minister?” Someone asked, and Poe didn’t even glance to the side at Ren’s hulking figure before answering.

“Well...uh, no.” There was an awkward silence for a moment.

“What do you mean, no?” A reporter from BBC asked.

“I mean - no, I don’t agree that we’re on a path making things better for the Americans and the British.”

“Dameron,” Ren hissed, too quietly to be picked up by the microphones, but it only strengthened Poe’s resolve.

“I mean, for too long, those in power have been determined to make things great for people who already have it great,” Poe explained, his heart in his throat - but who cared? This was why he ran. So he could tell the truth. Shake things up a little, even if he got kicked out in a few months.

“We should be going to that Summit with the strong resolve to actually make changes for the people who need us to make changes. And we can’t do that with the belief that we should return to the level of strength- the kind of strength we had when the world recognized America and England as powerhouses. We only had that power because we wrenched it from the hands of the powerless. We stole that power. We didn’t come by it honestly, and we sure as hell didn’t keep it honestly. I, for one, have no intention of ‘making things better’ for some of us while making it a hell of a lot worse for everyone else. I was elected to be everyone’s prime minister. Not just the upper class.”

Poe paused, glanced over at Ren, who was the colour of a tomato, and then looked back into the cameras.

“And I’m sure, after a lot of reflection, my American counterpart will come to the same agreement. Better for everyone, not just for those who paid for our campaigns. And if not, well, I’m sure America can at least follow our example. They’ve done it before.”

Poe remembered to smile at the cameras and smiled when he saw Ren turn and stomp up the stairs from the corner of his eye.

Later, after he’d fielded a lot of questions from the reporters and had provided as many smiles as he could while also projecting a sense of steely determination, Poe went inside 10 Downing Street and discovered that Ren had already taken flight out the back with his retinue.

He slipped into his main office and poured some brandy. “Buddy,” he cleared his throat after taking a sip. “Shuffle my music.”

His AI system, who he’d affectionately named “Big Buddy” instead of Big Brother, hummed pleasantly and complied. Immediately, the strains of a familiar song reached Poe’s ears.

“This song played at my parents’ wedding!” Poe laughed as he took his suit jacket off. “Did you know that, buddy?” 

_ “Your eyes tell me how you want me,”  _ The Pointer Sisters began to sing, and Poe shook his hips and started to shake his hips. 

_ “I can feel it in your heart beat/ know you like what you see, _ ” Poe mouthed along with the lines as he backed it up across the office, unbuttoning the top of his button down. 

Big Buddy’s speakers could be heard down the hallway as Poe pranced and simpered his way down the carpet, clapping his hands and shimmying to the beat, hopping whenever the Pointer Sisters demanded “Jump!” 

Poe’s eyes were closed as he snapped his fingers and twisted and turned around a corner; he shook his ass more than was precisely necessary, but he didn’t care. At least, not until he turned around and saw Kaydel Connix staring at him.

“Eep!” Poe froze, and dropped his hands at once. “Uh. Hello, Ms. Connix. How are you?”

“I’m well, sir.” Connix’s mouth twitched. “You have a phone call waiting. If you’re...ready.”

“Yes. Of course.” Poe coughed and nodded. “I’ll just-” he scooted around Connix, who certainly didn’t move out of the way as much as she could, and he practically threw himself into the open door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we'll find out where Rey went in the next chapter!!!
> 
> here's the dancing scene from the original movie, in case you were wondering: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUm2K6eDuMU


	4. (One Week Before Christmas)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Rey gone from 10 Downing Street, Poe is left to yearn for the missing speechwriter. But, a surprising Christmas letter spurs him into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF and a lot of hand-waving happens here. I hope you enjoy, and merry Christmas Eve!

To say that Poe was having a rough time at the end of the year was an understatement.

Sure, he experienced an upsurge in support amongst the middle- and lower-classes as a result of his impassioned speech against the American president; and of course, he was polling decently. But his dad would be spending Christmas in Cuba still, and on top of that, there was another noticeable absence at 10 Downing Street.

Poe had looked for Rey Kenobi for almost six days before Maz Kanata took mercy on him and pulled him aside.

“She went home, darling boy.” Maz patted his cheek with her withered hand when he stared down at her in confusion.

“Home?” Poe repeated. “But she’s from London. This is her home.”

Maz clicked her tongue and shook her head. “No. She’s quit her post, Poe.”

“That’s…” He floundered. “That’s ridiculous. Why should she quit? She did nothing wrong!”

“She was mortified, and hurt, and exhausted. She has an arrangement with your head of staff that she could possibly return in the New Year, but for now - Ms. Kenobi is no longer here at 10 Downing Street. Too many painful memories. You understand.”

Maz did not say that as a question, so Poe nodded mutely and watched her walk away with a lump in his throat.

Rey had … she’d just quit. She’d left, and he hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.

He stared miserably out the window at the slush falling from the dark grey sky before smacking himself in the face. “Arse,” he scolded his fogged reflection. “You absolute dingbat.”

Yes, Rey was gone, and he’d probably never see her again: but, Rey had been assaulted by a very powerful man in these walls. It was no wonder she didn’t want to be here.

Poe sat shakily on an overstuffed ottoman that was pushed up against a wall and covered his mouth with his hand.  _ He could have been Kylo Ren.  _ If he had gotten a bit too fresh - if he hadn’t stopped flirting with her (thank the Lord for Kare, Connix, and Jess, who had set him straight) - if he had crossed a line … he would have been the one to chase her away. From her position. From her dream job. 

He buried his head in his hands and dragged his hands through his curls.

“Prime Minister?” It was Finn, Rey’s flatmate, and one of Poe’s favourite members of the staff.

“Ah. Hello, Finn.” Poe glanced over, his hands still tangled in his curls; he tried to pull one free to wave at Finn, but a finger got snarled on a tangle in his hair, so he half-waved, looking like a madman. “...nice to see you.”

“Right.” Finn eyed him warily. “Are you … sure you’re alright?” 

Finn was one of the few to accept Poe’s begging for no one to call him sir, and Poe appreciated that right now, with his eyes probably wild and his hair looking stupid. He didn’t know what he would say to any attempt to be polite to him, other than to laugh hysterically.

“No, Finn.” Poe stared at him wearily, and Finn sat down on the ottoman next to him. Poe appreciated the proximity; he realized he hadn’t been hugged since the night he won the election. He was tired of all the space around him, all of the time. “No. I...I’m an asshole.”

“Probably.” Finn shrugged but frowned, and Poe didn’t know how to say  _ I might have been responsible for your best friend and flatmate’s lack of a job at the moment, it’s all much too much for someone to untangle  _ \- “We’re all assholes sometimes, Prime Minister.”

“Please.” Poe succeeded in taking his hands out of his hair and covered his face instead, his elbows on his knees as he curved inward. “Please call me Poe.”

“Okay. Poe.” Finn’s hand was warm on Poe’s shoulder, and Poe let out a shaky breath. “We can all be assholes, but if it’s any consolation, you’re never an asshole to us.” 

Poe covered Finn’s hand with his own, unsure if he could ask for a hug - that would definitely be abusing his power, right? God, fuck this fucking job - but grateful nonetheless for human contact. They sat quietly in the window for a few more minutes, Poe too petrified to ask if Rey Kenobi hated him forever, and Finn too kind to tell the prime minister to get his shit together.

* * *

“Christmas cards for you, sir.” Connix walked in with a small tray laden with cards. Outside, the sky was dark and snow had started to fall; Poe found himself staring out the window more often than not, wondering if a very clever woman with beautiful eyes was also looking out at the snow (and Lord when had he gotten so melodramatic? Had it come with the sleep deprivation?)

“From another children’s hospital?” Poe had just finished reading a stack of those, and his stomach still hurt from laughing but also crying. He wiped his eyes with his thumb, unembarrassed to cry in front of Kaydel. “Alright-’

“No, from colleagues and friends.” Connix laughed and handed him the trays. “I know to stagger your crying.”

“Thanks, Kay.” Poe smiled at her, and she gave him a rare grin before straightening up and walking out the door.

There were a few cards from generic well-wishers, an ambassador here and there, some members of Parliament. Poe flipped through them, trying not to sigh because they were nice thoughts, and he shouldn’t view reading them and responding to them as a chore, but then, he saw it.

Familiar, compact, and very neat handwriting.

Poe held the red envelope with his breath stuck in his throat; it had already been opened by overzealous security, so he chucked the rest of the letters aside and, with shaking fingers, pulled out the letter, written in that same distinctive script.

_ Dear Prime Minister,  _ it began.

_ No. Dear Poe. _

_ I know I left in a hurry. The truth is, I’m still so embarrassed, and I’m sure you know why. It doesn’t bear talking about, but I’ve been thinking a lot these past few weeks, and I realized that you - as noble and ridiculous as you are - might think I left for fear of your response, or something as equally absurd.  _

_ I left for many reasons, Prime Minister. They were reasons I was going to keep to myself, but - aside from nearly starting World War III with the largest military on earth - I figure … fuck it. It’s Christmas. _

_ You see, I left because I grew much too fond of you. Your strange propensity for coffee at 3 a.m. Your humming that you do because you forget people can actually hear you. Your ability to remember the smallest detail about any one of us. Your ridiculous attachment to parenthetical asides (you’ll get the message across just fine, Prime Minister, even if you don’t have them, but I do admit, they are a pleasure at times).  _

_ If you can’t say it at Christmas, when can you? _

_ I am, actually, yours. _

_ With all my love, _

_ Rey Kenobi _

Poe stared at the letter for a long time until the words blurred together, and he could feel his heartbeat in his bones. Then, he leapt up and grabbed his coat; he stormed out the door and down the steps, startling Connix as she came out of an office.

“Where are you going?” She asked with a coy smile.

“Oh.” Poe made a harumphing noise as he half-slid down the banister. “You know. Don’t even try to pretend you don’t.”

“Merry Christmas!” She shouted at his back, and Poe waved, smiling through his nerves as he headed for the car.

The chauffeur was shocked to see him. “Where to, sir?” He asked, hastening to open the door.

“Wandsworth,” Poe said confidently, recalling a conversation he and Rey had a month ago.

“Sir?” The chauffeur, Theo, gave him an odd look as Poe slid into his seat and reached for the buckle. “...where in Wandsworth?”

“Oh.” Poe blinked. “Um...the dodgy...end? Near the pub. Mos...Eisley, or something?” 

“I will...see what I can do with that information.” Theo closed the door and got in the front seat, and then they were off across the city. 

Traffic was horrendous of course, and Poe sat in the back, his leg bouncing, eyes glued to the houses as they rolled past as though he could figure out at a glance if Rey Kenobi had ever been inside one of them. Christmas music blared cheerfully out of the speakers, and normally Poe would hum along, but he found he was entirely too anxious to at the moment. 

After much too long, they pulled up at the top of a street, one block over from Mos Eisley’s Cantina. 

“Do you know which house, sir?” 

“Nope.” Poe shook his head and jumped out of the car; he eyed the street warily - many of them had decorations out, and it wasn’t a bad street at all, despite Rey’s jokes about it. But, there were at least five dozen houses for him to choose from, and Poe cleared his throat and marched towards the first one.

“Sir!” Theo jumped out and ran to follow him. “You did not request security, sir, so I entreat you to remain in the car-”

“Theo.” Poe clapped him on the shoulder. “Have you ever been in love?”

Theo, sixty years old and proper as anything in his suit, stammered slightly and turned red. “Once, sir. A long time ago.”

“Right.” Poe nodded and spun on his heel, marching for the front door once again. “This is for love, Theo. If I get assassinated please be sure to make a note of it.”

“Sir!” 

They stood shoulder to shoulder, Theo clearly trying to calm himself down, as they waited for the residents to answer.

A sweet old lady with four young ones around her answered the door.

“Any chance a Rey lives here?” Poe asked, already knowing it wasn’t to be.

She stared at him in shock. “Blimey. You’re the-”

“Yes, unfortunately.” Poe laughed and nodded at her. 

“No Rey here,” the grandmother nudged the oldest child. “Run and get the-”

“Goodnight and Merry Christmas!” Poe hastened down the steps to the next hour.

There wasn’t any more look at that one - three barking Shih Tzus had greeted him there and tried to murder him, and Poe knew Finn was allergic to dogs, so he didn’t even have to ask. He merely wished the massive man who opened the door a Merry Christmas and ducked down to the next row house. 

There, screaming children demanded carols, and he and Theo broke into a surprisingly tuneful, if mortifying, rendition of Good King Wenceslas, which was met with a bevy of loud and aggravating cheers.

For fifteen minutes, Poe worked his way down the street, Theo at his heels, often asking if he were sure it was absolutely necessary they do this, and Poe was about to give up hope (and maybe just ask Kaydel where the hell Rey Kenobi lived and let her yell at him for improper breach of privacy) when the last door opened and a beautiful woman was standing there.

“Does…” Poe saw the way she was staring at him. “Yes, yes, I’m the Prime Minister. Sorry about all the cock-ups, I really am doing my best, but Parliament … you know.” He waved a hand and smiled as best he could. “Merry Christmas, and is there any chance in hell that-”

“Rey!” The woman shouted, “There’s a very sweaty Prime Minister here!”

“Ha, ha, Jannah, that isn’t fun-” Rey Kenobi skittered around the corner, rolling her eyes, and then she froze in her tracks at the sight of Poe. “Oh my fucking Lord.”

“Oh, I want to watch this,” Jannah said, grinning back and forth at them.

Poe understood he should say something, but he was arrested at the sight of Rey; she wore a large Christmas jumper with Rudolph on it. The little red nose was blinking red to match the garland of beads around Rey’s neck. Her hair was up in two buns at the top of her head, and her cheeks were flushed with surprise. And, her feet were bare. Poe’s attention caught on that.

“Your feet must be freezing,” he said, eyes wide.

“Oh, never mind, I do  _ not  _ want to watch this.” Jannah shook her head. “Can’t believe I voted for you, and that’s the best you can do.”

“Jannah,” Rey hissed, her eyes locked on Poe, who now knew that the best way to describe his current appearance was  _ sweaty _ .

“I’m out.” Jannah held her hands up and walked to the back of the house where Christmas music was blasting.

Rey walked towards Poe slowly, as though in a trance, and Poe swallowed and took a half step back.

“I’ll go get the car, sir,” Theo stage-whispered, elbowing Poe on the way down the steps, and Poe only nodded, transfixed as he was by the beautiful woman walking towards him.

“Rey,” Poe cleared his throat and shook his head. “Ms. Kenobi, I mean.”

“Please call me Rey.” She stepped out onto the front mat and closed the door behind her. 

“Your feet really must be cold,” Poe insisted, looking down again at her toes, which curled against the doormat. 

“They’re fine.” Rey shrugged with impatience, and Poe looked her in the eyes, suddenly terrified but elated. “Why are you here, Prime Minister?”

“Poe.” He corrected her as quickly as she’d corrected him. “Please, you called me Poe in the letter, and-”

“Poe,” Rey said gently. “Poe, why are you here?”

“Your letter,” Poe repeated, dumbfounded. The light on the stoop shone down on Rey, and he wondered if there could have been a star brighter than her in the sky that night. But, snow was falling, and catching in their hair, and Poe forgot about stars entirely with someone as luminous as Rey with him. “I got your letter, and...I came as quickly as I could.”

“How did you know where to find me?” Rey toyed with a wisp of hair at her temple and smiled bashfully. 

“You said Wandsworth,” Poe said softly. “Dodgy end. I, uh,” he gestured to where the car was parked, almost a half mile away. “I started at the top and worked my way down.”

“You didn’t,” Rey seemed impressed. “All that, just to see me?”

“Yeah.” Poe nodded and smiled at her. “I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. No one’s...ever made that much of an effort before.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Poe blurted out, and Rey stared at him in surprised. “You shouldn’t. And I came here tonight with no other expectation or plan, really, but that: to tell you that you have nothing to be embarrassed of.  _ He _ did a horrible thing, and no one in their right mind would ever blame you for it. My God, Rey, please, please don’t be embarrassed, and please, please come back to work. You deserve this job. You’ve earned this job.” He sighed and shook his head.

“And what about...everything else?” Rey asked softly, her cheeks pinker than they were a moment ago from the cold.

“Everything else.” Poe nodded and looked up at the sky for help before answering. “Well, I can … I can pretend I’m not in love with you. I … I won’t make it uncomfortable for you, but it’s so much more important for you to have your career than for me to ….”

“You really are an idiot.” Rey crossed her arms in front of the blinking Rudolph and frowned at him.

“That’s true,” Poe agreed breathlessly.

“Poe, I confessed that  _ I  _ was in love with  _ you  _ in that letter.”

“I…” Poe coughed and felt his face turn red. 

“I was pretty clear about it.”

“I didn’t want to assume…”

“Prime -- Poe.” Rey laughed brightly, and Poe found himself smiling at her. “I’m in love with you. And I can … I can get another job. Sure, I’d rather have a job with you, but … there are other people who need speeches written. Maybe you could … write a recommendation or something-”

“Or something,” Poe breathed, eyes wide. Was he dreaming? Had he hit his head, falling down the stairs? All likelihoods. “Or, we could ask if it’s okay for us to … be together? Maybe even poll the country? See what they think?”

“That sounds horrid.” Rey was still smiling though. “But maybe we can figure that out later. After…”

“After what?” Poe asked, and Rey took a step closer, biting her lip.

Her eyes were as beautiful as he remembered, and snow was catching in her eyelashes; they looked at each other for a long time, neither of them at all aware of the biting cold, only aware of each other, every micromovement, every breath, every inch of each other. 

“Oh,” Poe said softly.

“Yes?” Rey asked, her eyes dropping to his mouth.

“God, yes.” Poe reached out slowly for fear of grabbing on too quick, and pulled her close by the waist. 

Rey wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in to close the final distance, her mouth slotting perfectly against his.

Christmas music still tumbled about the air with the snow as Poe kissed Rey Kenobi, unafraid of the consequences; she tasted like eggnog, and her mouth was warm and soft, and her body felt perfect against his own. She kissed with an eagerness that wasn’t quite urgent, but set him aflame regardless, warming him from the inside out, and Poe could only hope he was doing the same for her: he shuffled in until she laughed and half-stepped onto his shoes, relieving her toes from some of the cold.

Kissing Rey felt like every future he’d been too afraid to let himself imagine, and as they broke apart, grinning widely and half-giggling, Poe let himself hope that their love might actually be enough to conquer any obstacle in front of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS FINISHED (except maybe it needs an epilogue where everything works out - cue handwaving - and they get to kiss and be together forever and ever and ever)


End file.
